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Monday, April 23, 2012

"T" Is for Thirty-Two

Do I get double points for using two Ts? I think I should. That would put me in the lead.

I'm not thirty-two years old. But I am greatly looking forward to my thirties. Lots of people (husband included) are dreading turning the big three-oh. Maybe it's because I still have 2 years left so it hasn't settled in... but I think the thirties are the best years of one's life. So, all you thirty-something-ers. I so wish I was you.

Thirty-two is actually for how many weeks I am measuring.
Now, before I get into all the medical diagnoses and what not- I would like to state that the devices of measurement used in an ob-gyn office are fairly primitive and I would take a gander and say mostly wrong. Take the ultrasound. I love seeing my baby on the screen. I loved it with Koley Canoli and I love it with JBP. But they told me 13 days before he came that Kole would probably round off to a nice even 8 pounds. Using the ultrasound as their guide of course. He must off been packing an extra 3 pounds in the back where they couldn't see it.
This time, using my previous practitioner's mistakes, they continue to tell me how big the baby is currently and is going to be at birth. And while I smile and get excited... I feel a little jaded. I can't say I fully trust their opinions. And fear this one may come out on the opposite end of the spectrum. They say he'll be a big lug and then be preemie size.

I am officially 29 weeks. I put on 7 pounds since my last appointment two weeks ago. Go Patty. Thank you gallon of Neapolitan ice cream. Before they listen to the baby's heartbeat they get a paper tape measure and measure your stomach. Every time they do that I suppress my grins because all I can think of is, "We can put a man on the moon but we can't think of a more advanced way to measure babies?" The rule of thumb is... how ever many weeks you are- that's how many centimeters you should be measuring. So I am 3 centimeters over. Which looking at a ruler... is so small. I don't get how that means big baby.
I told Ken and he said, "That means we only have 7 weeks until the baby comes!"
Which isn't true. They'll take him according to his due date... of course.
And the doctor reassuringly told me today, "It doesn't matter how big he gets. I can cut him out no problem."

Somehow... that wasn't as comforting as she thought it would be. I mean- backaches, trouble breathing, rib pressure, heart burn, swollen feet. Let's not get carried away. I don't want sliced in half come July.

You look great! That was about the time I put on 12 pounds in two weeks and I was mortified and tearing up. My doctor thought my husband and I were arguing when he came in, but I was just upset about my weight gain. He then proceeded to laugh at me!